


We'll Bathe Tonight

by rotbody



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Junkrat's rude mouth, Just another Rat taking a bath fic, M/M, Masturbation, Shaving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2016-06-27
Packaged: 2018-07-18 13:50:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7317745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rotbody/pseuds/rotbody
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Junkrat gets his first real bath when they're well away from Australia. They knock off the bank in Dorado, make off with so much gold and cash that they could never spend it, and hole up in a grimy motel a couple towns over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We'll Bathe Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> **Anon Prompt:** write something where roadhog has to shave (for his gas mask) and junkrats reaction to it?
> 
> uhh kinda just took that and ran w/ it

Rat never thinks about baths, because you don’t get baths in the Outback. Water’s too precious to waste like that. If you’re lucky, maybe you can sponge off once in awhile, but you don’t get clean like the people who live in the cities and the rest of the world.

Junkrat gets his first real bath when they’re well away from Australia. They knock off the bank in Dorado, make off with so much gold and cash that they could never spend it, and hole up in a grimy motel a couple towns over.

Rat drops onto the bed as soon as they’re in the room. It creaks and it’s lumpy, but he’s exhausted, all burnt out from the heist. It had been good, exciting, he’d used almost all of his explosives. He’s pretty sure he left a couple concussion mines down in the tunnel, too. Hah! That’ll be a nasty surprise for them. He can hear Hog moving around the room, but he doesn’t pay him any mind. He’s ready for a good kip.

He must have crashed out right quick, because the next thing Rat knows is that he’s being shoved and shaken back into wakefulness. He jerks, kicking out at random and cursing before he can see it’s just Hog. Of course it’s just Hog. No one else would wake him up that nicely. It’d be all stab and ask questions later.

“Fuck. Don’t do that, Hoggie,” Junkrat slurs, reaching up to rub the heel of his palm against an eyelid. His sight’s all bleary and the room’s dim, but he can tell Hog’s unmasked and undressed, which is enough to wake him up quite a bit more. It’s always a good motivator. “Y’ wanna fuck?” Sure, he’s tired, but if Hog’s lookin’ for it, he can’t pass it up.

“No,” Hog snorts bluntly. “Go take a shower. Get cleaned up.” Kind of a huge let down. Dashes all Rat’s hopes. If they’re not gonna fool around, what’s the point? In waking him up, in venturing into the bathroom. Rat drops his head back down, sticks out his tongue.

“You’re not me fuckin’ mum, ya big cunt, don’t gotta do what you say,” Rat mutters sleepily, and rolls over. Rolls back over after about a minute to get another look at Hog. Blinks up at him blearily. “Whaddya do to yer face!?”

Hog looks weird. It takes him a second, but yeah, he looks weird. Different. Junkrat’s used to seeing him without the mask now, all fucked-up scars and damaged skin that he hides underneath rubbery leather. But he’s missing something, the silvery fuzz along his chin and jaw. That ever-present sorta-beard is all gone. Rat can’t help himself, he reaches up to rub the heel of his real hand against Hog’s jaw. Smooth. Fuckin’ queer, that is.

“Shaved,” Hog grunts. He gives Rat’s hand a slap, batting it away. Gives him another smack when Junkrat reaches up again. There’s a little black grime smudge where Junkrat touched, but seems like the big guy’s ignoring it.

“Huh. Well. Can ya do mine, then?” Junkrat scratches his chin and the singed hairs under all the crud coating his skin. The idea just comes to him, all quick, like lightning, like a well-wired bomb. He’s pretty sure he’s never actually shaved proper, the hair usually just gets burned off on its own. Or plain doesn’t grow in right.

Roadhog looks at him, all narrowed eyes and suspicion. Maybe it’s a weird request, but so what? Not like he knows how to shave his own stupid face. If Hog’s clean shaven, he can be, too. And maybe he wants a little attention. Seems like a good way to get it.

“Wash up and I’ll do it,” Hog agrees, after an extended silence. Like he really had to consider it. Asshole. Junkrat’s bailing out of bed quick as he can manage, little unsteady on his uneven feet when they meet the carpet. It’s a quick hobble to the bathroom, still warm, humid, smelling like cheap soap and mold.

Rat gets far as the bathtub before he realizes he’s gonna have to actually wash up, like for real, the way civvies and suits and all those other normal cunts do. Soap and all. Fuck. He’s gotten used to the way his skin feels, coated with a thin layer of oily chemicals and soot and dirt. When he rubs the back of his neck it feels both slick and gritty, if he runs his hand through his hair it leaves black streaks. The thought of scrubbing it all off is a little disturbing. That’s _his_ dirt, damnit. He stares at the empty tub so long that when he glances back into the room, he can see Roadhog’s already dressed and completely ignoring him. Shit. Doesn’t bode well for him getting any action tonight.

“Fuck off,” he grumbles to no one in particular. Clothes are off first, his shorts and explosives vest both left in a pile somewhere on the grimy floor. He perches himself on the rim of the bath after, trying to keep steady as he takes off his arm and then leg. Those get set aside, too. Step one down. He turns the water on next, letting it run cold, and does a dumb little awkward shuffle so he can settle down at the bottom of the tub without slipping and busting his ass. 

The water runs black as soon as it hits him, washes the initial layer of soot and dirt away. Junkrat scowls at the trail of wet grime going down the drain, shivers as the cold water pelts him. He uses his hand and scraggly nails to scrub off some of the worst of the muck around his neck and shoulders. Doesn’t make bad progress, either, before he remembers that right, soap, he’s gotta use that shit too. The bar in the shower’s just a cheap shitty little thing, already half-worn down from Roadhog’s use.

Rat makes it work, gets a good bit of the old caked-on filth off, especially around his neck and face. Good enough, he thinks, he’s got the worst of it off, anyway. There’s still dirty patches, but it’s cleaner than he’s been in ages. He half-turns in the bath, ready to call Hog in and get his shave, only to see the giant fucker standing there in the doorway, blocking the whole frame. Who knows how long he’s been there, just watching Rat sit there in the cold water.

“You pervin on me?” He asks, laughs like a damn hyena as Hog just rolls his eyes and actually comes into the room. No response, not like Rat expected any. Nah, he’s not looking for conversation, for once, he’s more looking forward to what Hog’s gonna do. The whole shaving thing, what’s gonna happen after, whatever.

He doesn’t need to wait long to see what the big fella’s planning. Roadhog gets his hands under Rat’s arms, lifts him up like he’s a fuckin’ toddler. He can’t even be mad, it’s not like he hates being manhandled (by Hog, anyway) and it’s always kinda impressive that Hog can pick him up and move him however he pleases. Rat knows he’s not a small guy. Just Hog’s bigger. 

“You need to hold still.” Is all the pep talk Rat’s gonna get, apparently, because Hog’s going and lathering up the last bit of soap. It’s more than a bit grey-tinged thanks to Rat’s use, but it’s not like either of them care. He works up a good bit of lather, spreads it over Rat’s chin and jawline, and down onto his neck.

“Ah, fuck,” Rat mumbles, tipping his head back almost automatically as soon as he feels Hog’s fingers brush over his throat. Just fingers first, rubbing the lathered-up soap over his skin. Fuck. His dick’s up like it’s on a goddamn string and shit he lovehates that it’s so easy for Hog to get him going.

He’s being good, he thinks, sitting nice and still as soon as Hog gets close with that razor. Just a shitty plastic jobbie, already dull from Hog using it on his own face. The blades catch against his bristly stubble and scrape on his skin, a little rough, but it’s not like he hasn’t felt worse. Everywhere the blades touch, Roadhog’s fingers follow, smoothing and wicking lather off his skin and shit that could make up for the very worst razor burn.

He breathes out, feels the dull blades press into the pulse point of his throat for just an instant. Hears Hog grunt somewhere up above him, a little warning to be more careful. Junkrat can’t help it, he laughs, wheezy and brief. Doesn’t matter if it’s just a dull, near-useless blade, he knows Roadhog could kill him with a flick of the wrist like this. And Rat’s practically offering his throat up to him. Shit. Isn’t that something? Not even a year and already he’s comfortable with this, doesn’t care if there’s a knife at his throat as long as Roadhog’s handling it.

His dick doesn’t flag for a goddamn second, which, Junkrat has to admit, is a little impressive considering how long Hog takes to finish up. The big fella takes his time, all gentle and shit, and fuck, maybe that’s what’s doing him in. Not just Hog’s hands on him (always a treat), but treating him all nice and special. Fuck. ‘s weird, and he’d feel like a right fucking poofter if he ever tried to say anything about it. So he’s not going to bother. Hog wouldn’t care, anyway. He barely cares, just likes the attention, more than anything he likes that it’s _this_ big mean fucker giving it to him.

Junkrat isn’t sure how much time passes. Long enough, he figures, it’s not like time matters when they’re going to be lying low after their big heist. Roadhog’s pulling away after awhile, after he rinses Rat’s face for him and pats his skin dry with an only slightly-damp towel. Junkrat turns as soon as Hog seems about totally done with the shaving business, spreads his legs a bit, all that enticing shit that can usually get the Pig’s attention.

“Finish up and come to bed.” That’s all Roadhog says before he leaves. Just fuckin’ leaves him there, right in the bathroom, all hard and wanting and not even an offer. Just a squeeze on the shoulder and then he’s gone.

Bastard. Absolute fuckin’ bastard. Rat grits his teeth but gets his hand on his cock all the same, grip tight and rough. No nuance now, he just wants to get off quick and easy. No reason to try for something fancy if he’s not got an audience and he’s not getting anything else. He’s pissed at the guy, but he’s still thinking about Hog’s hands on him, holding, stroking, strangling, _hurting_ \- and that’s as far as he gets in his fantasy before he pops off. He comes without much fuss, hissing between his teeth and hunched over, right where Roadhog left him.

The fat jerk’s in bed by the time Rat’s done and dry and hobbling back into the room. Junkrat scowls at him, crawls into bed even though he’s still ticked off at the guy. It’s not like he’s got anywhere else to go, or anyone else clamoring to share a bed with him. He’s sure to give Hog a few “accidental” kicks as he settles down next to him. Roadhog grumbles, but rolls to face Rat all the same, draping an arm over him to draw him close. Rat thinks, for a second, about shoving the guy away and curling up at the very edge of the shitty mattress.

He doesn’t, in the end, just makes some grumbly noises before he tucks his nose up against Roadhog’s stomach. He’s gonna let the big lug have it in the morning, he’ll cuss the cunt out and then not let him leave the bed until at least noon. He snickers quietly just picturing it, laughing quietly to himself until Roadhog shushes him.

**Author's Note:**

> join this life sized human person in her personal hell @ rotbody.tumblr.com


End file.
